Breathtaking
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: Post-movie. Phillip is mesmerized by Anne, and W.D. knows it. The brother and the beau get into a heated discussion, in which Phillip confesses, in Anne's earshot, that he loves her. "I won't ever let anything happen to her, the world be damned. I love her, more than my own self. Isn't that enough?" "Yes, it /is/ enough." Phillip/Anne.


_**Soli Deo gloria**_

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own The Greatest Showman.**

 **Can—can we talk about this movie for a quick sec? This movie was** _ **insane**_ **. Like, I went in with these high expectations and somehow they were completely and utterly surpassed and I** _ **loved it all**_ **. (Let's write lots of stories for it!)**

"Tell me what you think of it," P.T. said, tucking the newest of their show's posters into Phillip's startled hand before disappearing.

It was a day full of practice and rehearsals; the opening and final acts done for the day, P.T. left their show in the capable hands of his partner. Phillip looked up, startled (how did he find himself still getting surprised by P.T.? He should be used to it by now), as P.T. show up with his top hat and winter coat. "And we can discuss any revisions tomorrow." He tipped his hat and said, "See you tomorrow, Phillip."

"Good night, P.T.," Phillip said, watching the man hurry away with a skip in his step and light in his heart, "hey, say 'Hi' to the girls for me!"

"Will do!" P.T. called over his shoulder as he trailed down the pastured green. Their tent was set on a slightly elevated hill by the docks. Surrounded by fields on three sides and a view of the sea by the other, it was a picturesque location for an exciting circus, and priceless to the whole troupe.

Phillip's eyes fell back from the disappearing hat to rest on the posters in his hand. They'd hired an artist to render new posters for the circus, in an advertising scheme to let people know of their new location; to assure them that they still existed, just in a different spot. The artist sat in the audience through several shows, and stared in wonder, silent as he watched with a gaping mouth the goings-on behind the curtain. Also, several pictures of the performers were taken by a professional photographer; Phillip himself organized that. Several were kept while others were given to the artist to base his paintings off of. (Phillips kept a little round of Anne in his pocket-watch. It hung from a chain in his pocket. He daily felt its steady ticking; between its movement and Anne's likeness inside, it reminded him of a beating heart.) This was the first of the posters.

Phillip cast the posters down on a sawdust covered table. He brushed off the equipment and ropes littering it and carefully laid out the posters. In the background he could hear the performers still at their acts working in the ring. Lettie was doing vocal exercises in her little room off the balcony and Charles was having a fitting for a Napoleon Bonaparte act. But here, behind the scenes, he was alone, just for a moment.

The posters were _fantastic_. His breath caught as he carefully threaded through them; rimmed with exquisite details, bold letters announced to the world of the fantastic freaks the circus prided itself on. One look at Lettie ('Barnum Circus - The Bearded Lady') and you could _hear_ the magnificent song her voice belted out. The faces of the clowns almost stood off the pages. They were incredibly lifelike; full of color, and daring. Just like their circus.

Phillip's fingers crept on to the next poster, even as his gaze was kept almost trapped to each last poster. Then, his breath was truly caught; his heart got stuck in his throat as his trembling fingers carefully caught up the edges of the sturdy picture. Holding it aloft so sunlight splayed across it, Phillip gazed on the poster done for the show's acrobats. 'Barnum Circus - Anne the Acrobat and the Whirling W.D. - The Flying Wheelers!'

He'd never seen Anne's likeness rendered in color before, and his breath was taken. The sternness of her eyes, the unapologetic brown glow of her skin; the bend of her neck; the wispiness of her pink hair reminded him of spun sugar. She was . . . so beautiful.

"Amazing, isn't she?" a voice said behind him.

"Yes," Phillip breathed as a man in a dream, "she is." Then he blinked and recognizing W.D.'s voice, spun around. Surely he hadn't seen him staring longingly at his little sister, did he?

W.D.'s eyes, however, weren't focused on anything in that room. A towel soaking up the sweat across his shoulders and neck, he stood with folded arms in the entryway between backstage and the ring. Phillip stepped closer so he could see what W.D. could see. Looking out, he saw Anne flying across the ring like it was the simplest thing in the world, like riding a bike. She turned a somersault in the air before effortlessly catching the next rope with her strong arms like it was nothing.

"Yes," Phillip said quietly, after a moment, "she is."

W.D. studied Phillip as he was diverted by Anne. A thoughtful frown crept over the man's face. He said, shaking his head, "You shouldn't do it."

"Do what?" Phillip asked absentmindedly, attention still clinging to Anne's fleeting form.

"Be involved with my sister." That grabbed Phillip's attention with a tight grip and demanded he face W.D. and his low voice. "You flatter yourself by thinking that just because you want something, you will get it. You know _nothing_ of our lives, of _her_ life. The moment it gets hard, you will leave her. I know your type, Carlyle. You are rich, and first-class, and white. The moment it gets hard, remember my words."

Phillip's jaw set, but he didn't let his temper rise. W.D. was her older brother, and was the only rival for having more love for Anne than he did. He said, "I know."

W.D. was silent. Phillip said, "I know. I know all this."

"And? What? You don't care? You can't brush these facts aside, Carlyle," W.D. said, stepping forward. "I know you care about her, yes, but how far will that care go?"

"I would die for her. I've proven that." Phillip stared down W.D. Neither were intimidated by the other. Neither either would drop the other's eyes, so not Phillip or W.D. saw Anne drop to the ground and softly come up behind Phillip, worrying immediately about the palpable tension between these men she loved.

"You could do that on a moment's notice, on adrenaline, but could you go out into the world with her, and let other people, _your people_ , see you together? Could you stay by her side anywhere, all through your lives? Could you take that? Can you take that, Carlyle?" W.D. took two steps forward. Anne's breath held. Her brother was normally so cheerful, so resolute and calm. To see such harsh protection for her voiced in such a desperate, vengeful tone made her scared, for both of them.

"I can. And I will. I'm not ashamed of her, and I don't care who I'm seen with, and I don't care who sees us. They'll have to get through me to _ever_ get to her, W.D." Phillip's voice grew strained and shrill, his heart thumping fast. "I won't _ever_ let anything happen to her, the world be damned. I love her, more than my own self. Isn't that enough?"

W.D.'s eyes flickered away from Phillip's face to focus on someone past him. Phillip felt the fast beating of his heart betraying what he then knew to be true: _she was right behind him_. Phillip turned to face her.

Anne cleared her throat, but kept his eyes. She said in her easy voice (after a moment of having to find her voice and the words), "Yes, it _is_ enough."

She took up Phillip's hand; his fingers intertwined with hers and held her tightly. Her eyes flickered over to W.D. and she said, "I know, W.D. But _he_ knows, too."

A look was shared between brother and sister; the protection of the brother would no less cease for the bravery of the sister, but it would lessen its angry intensity. Around Phillip, at least. The tight lines in W.D.'s face and his jaw relaxed. She gave him a slight nod. "Now, if you're done threatening my beau, brother, I'll follow behind you."

W.D. nodded and picked up a loop of rope to hang up in the ring. His eyes stayed on the pair until he disappeared out of sight.

Slowly, their eyes met. Phillip caught up her other hand in his and held her tight. She said, her brown eyes dipped down, a little blush creeping onto her cheeks, "So, you love me."

"I do." Phillip was not afraid to tell her; he'd shout it in front of the whole world if he had to. He said earnestly, in a low voice, "And what about you?"

Her gaze rose up. A face lost of humor and full of solemn beauty looked up at him. "Of course I love you," she said, tears in her eyes, as she released one of his hands and stroked a burn scar on his forehead with the pad of her thumb. "Of course," her voice choked, "I love you."

He enveloped her in his arms and kissed her like they had all the time in the world. Even as the other performers helped shut the ring down for the afternoon before the evening performance, they remained. Lettie made sure no one went in the back room. "But what are they doing back there?" Charles wanted to know.

Lettie smiled to herself. "They're just looking at the posters together. They're a couple of lovebirds; can't they get a little privacy around here?! Now come on!"

Phillip and Anne had completely forgotten about those beautiful posters. They spent their afternoon in each other's arms, fingers tangling in the other's hair, laughs and whispers shared between them. W.D. had a point about the world, but right now, they didn't care about the big wide world. They just cared about theirs, together.

But when they finally left it to walk outside their tent, their hands were still clasped together. Phillip held her hand proudly.

* * *

When P.T. asked him what he thought of the posters, Phillip said, glancing at Anne, "They're breathtaking. Don't change a single thing."

 **:D SO MUCH FLUFF I CAN'T TAKE IT. Also, I wanted hand-holding, to kinda redeem the other hand-holding scene (*coughs* come on, Phillip, get it together, man *coughs*).**

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


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